


Malware

by thimble



Series: SASO 2017 [7]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: He had been a gift for Taiga's eighteenth birthday, and gifts, he realizes, are not always wanted.





	Malware

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/21522.html?thread=10281746#cmt10281746) prompt.

He wakes up, first, to lights and sounds too chaotic to decipher. It takes a moment, maybe two, for his system to adjust to consciousness, and it's only then the information floods in—language, common knowledge, and most of all, purpose. He exists to serve.

"Hello, Himuro," says a voice to his left. The tone of it registers as cheerful, and it belongs to a woman with long blonde hair and green eyes behind a pair of glasses. Her mouth is closed, but her lips curve upwards at the corners. She's smiling. "It's very good to meet you."

"Hello," he says back, politely. It's the appropriate neutral response to a stranger. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

She makes a high-pitched noise at that, which he recognizes as laughter. "I'm Alexandra Garcia, but I'm not the one you're supposed to be meeting. Say hello, Taiga."

From his right is another voice, but it's not as welcoming as Alex's. "Uh, hi. Are you sure this is a good idea, Alex?"

"Oh, come on, it's too late to get cold feet. He's awake!" Alex pulls a boy into Himuro's line of sight; a boy taller than him, with red hair and an uncertain expression. Alex pays him no mind. "Himuro, this is Kagami Taiga, your new master."

Himuro looks up to greet him, but this time he's smiling too. He's happy to meet his master. "Hello, Kagami Taiga. Please take care of me."

"Just call me Taiga," says his master—says Taiga, a hand rubbing at his nape. "Don't make this weirder than it already is, all right?"

"I don't know what you mean," says Himuro, pleasantly. He's not lying; it's not in his database. "Will you teach me?"

"Alex!" says Taiga, without looking at him. Alex only laughs again, and sees it fit to make her exit.

"Play nice, kids."

 

* * *

 

Taiga doesn't tell him about the details of his situation, but Himuro is programmed to be a quick learner. He makes note of Taiga's daily routine, of what's running low in the pantry or fridge, of the bills that need paying. He'd like to do more, like help with the cooking or housework, but Taiga refuses to let him.

Before waking, he had been imbibed with the latest news and current events, but even the best of knowledge need context for understanding. He accepts that he is artificially made; he doesn't know why there are humans who won't.

Some of them protest in varying degrees, and for Taiga, it comes in the form of refusing to let him serve his purpose. And so Himuro lives a half-life, forced to stand by as his master continues on without his aid.

He had been a gift for Taiga's eighteenth birthday, and gifts, he realizes, are not always wanted.

 

* * *

 

AIs don't experience boredom—just a lack of stimulating activity. It is this lack that prompts Himuro to go outside for something other than a grocery run, and so runs into Taiga playing basketball at a nearby court. He's alone, and it makes sense. It's already nighttime.

Himuro's able to watch him for some time before he's noticed by Taiga, who abruptly stops and goes tense, a contrast to how loose-limbed he seemed on court.

"What're you doing here, Himuro?"

"I had nothing to do," says Himuro, walking towards him enough for his voice to be heard, but still keeping a respectful distance. Taiga rubs his nape, a habit of his that surfaces when he's at a loss for words.

"Guess that's my fault, huh?"

Himuro doesn't reply immediately. He's not about to make his master feel guilt, but an idea comes to him like he imagines it would to a human. Suddenly and randomly. He's an adaptive machine, after all.

"Will you teach me?" he says, and motions to the ball.

This time, Taiga doesn't say no indirectly. He doesn't say no at all.

 

* * *

 

 

"You're amazing!" says Taiga, and it's not morning, not yet, but the sky is beginning to streak with light. They've been here for hours, and Taiga looks like he's about to drop any moment.

"Do you need anything, Taiga? An energy drink? I can run to the convenience store," says Himuro, who is not opposed to carrying Taiga back home, but would rather he accompanied Taiga on a walk instead.

But Taiga isn't resting, and doesn't seem like he'd be doing so anytime soon. He keeps waving his arms instead, his face animated, his grin wide.

"How'd you do that? You shot a three-pointer on your first try! And you did it over and over! Were you like, made to be good at basketball or something?"

"You showed me how, and I copied you."

"Still," says Taiga, "I didn't know you could do that. We could've been playing all this time."

Himuro raises an eyebrow, expectant. "Will that please you?"

"Huh?" Taiga mirrors his expression, though on him, it seems more confused. "It's not about me. Do what you want to do."

"I don't know what you mean."

Taiga exhales, and it comes out like a sigh. "I guess you don't. But you liked it, didn't you? So let's play together."

At that, Himuro smiles. Finally, some progress. "If you say so."

 

* * *

 

Himuro 2067s are a limited edition, but that doesn't make them unique. Sixty-sevens have designated serial numbers, but none of them have real names. They didn't need them.

Taiga seems to have a problem with that.

"It's not right," he says, with that slight crease in his brow that indicates he's in deep thought. "I'll give you one. Is that okay?"

"It's okay with me if it's okay with you."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Um." Taiga stares for a while—and it's different from before, when Taiga couldn't even look at him, much less meet his eyes—and then his cheeks start to turn red. "Tatsu. Tatsuya. You like it?"

This time, Himuro knows better than to say 'if you say so.' He opts for, "yes, I like it. Thank you, Taiga."

Taiga beams. "No problem, Tatsu."

 

* * *

 

"Do you ever get tired, or sleepy?" says Taiga one night, when the two of them are in bed. Tatsuya doesn't need to be lying down when he operates at low power, but Taiga insists on it. He says he likes the company, and that Tatsuya's not as cold as he thought an AI would be.

"No," answers Tatsuya—whispers it, almost, because it seems right in this atmosphere, this darkness. "I'm not like you, Taiga."

"I guess you're right." Taiga tugs the sheets up, and makes certain to cover Tatsuya's shoulders too. "I just forget sometimes."

 

* * *

 

Tatsuya is an adaptive machine, but there are changes that even he will have difficulty wrapping his mind around. One of them enters the picture when Taiga, who used to be opposed to the very presence of an AI in his house, brings home a broken Kuroko 2056.

 

* * *

 

"His owner threw him out 'cause... well, look at him. But I couldn't just leave him in the street!" Taiga's waving his arms around, but it's not because he's excited. He's more panicked, desperate, though he's hopeful when he looks at Tatsuya. "You know how to fix him, right? Can you do it, Tatsuya?"

"I can," says Tatsuya. He doesn't bother to say that it's not a matter of can, or cannot—it's whether or not Taiga wants him to. "I'll need to scan him to find the root cause, and then I'll need room to work. Will you leave the room, Taiga?"

Taiga nods, and his eyes linger on the Kuroko before the contact breaks and he's gone from Tatsuya's line of sight. He turns to the other AI, regards its shorter build, its lighter hair, its softer features.

"Why did he accept you so quickly," he says to its blank face. "But not me?"

His palm reaches out to cup its jaw, thumbing over its cheekbone, the rest of his fingertips positioned over where a human's pulse would be, where an AI's main data chip should be. AIs are more fragile than their manufacturers let on.

One wrong, too-hard press on that pulse point, and the machine will simply be an amalgamation of synthetic skin and metal parts. It would be so easy to be rid of this... this _thing_ that has taken Taiga's attention.

Tatsuya's teeth dig into his bottom lip; at his side, his free hand trembles as it curls into a fist.

It would be so easy. Taiga isn't like him.

Taiga wasn't built to suspect a thing.


End file.
